All The Wrong Choices - A HermioneTom Riddle fic
by jrdalby8
Summary: The battle has ended. They are all dead. Hermione vows vengeance, and decides that even if she cancels out herself in what she is about to do she doesn't care. She is going to go back 55 years in time, and kill Tom Riddle. But that isn't how life works...
1. Chapter 1

As Hermione walked through the halls of Hogwarts, staring at the devastation that had now taken over the castle, she felt nothing. She was numb. She could not believe what was happening. She knew she should cry, but had no more tears left inside her. When she had realised that all her friends had died, she had cried more than it should be humanly possible to. But now there was nothing. She was an empty shell, there was surely no more pain she could suffer. Ever.

She continued walking, stepping over the poor people that had died to try and save Hogwarts. She saw the dead death-eaters too, and she could not bring herself to hate them. They were dead now, and they were only pawns, pieces on a chess set to be moved to suit the players needs, and to sacrifice if need be.

She decided to go up to her dormatory. To sleep. Sleep the pain away. She was sure that there must be some survivors, but she had not found one while wandering the castle. Maybe they had fled, or lay injured in some dark corner she had not found. She no longer had the strength to find them.

As she looked down at the faces of the d ead that she came across frequently, she found that she envied them. How she wanted to simply cease to exist no one could ever know. To just sink into the infinite darkness that she assumed was death. And never to have to face a world where all her friends and family were dead.

She got to the portrait hole. The fat lady had been torn off the wall and slashed into oblivion. Hermione hoped she had had time to run to another portrait.

She climbed through the hole, and stared into the dark common room. Where just over a year ago her and Harry and Ron had sat, mourning Dumbledores death. How long ago that seemed. Like a 100 years. She climbed the stairs to the girl dormatory, thinking wryly that no one cared what dormatory she slept in now. As she walked in to the room, ready to sleep, sleep for days. Weeks. Months. Forever. Just so as to avoid facing the world ever again. But before she could sink into the soft sheets, something stopped her in her tracks.

There on the floor, it's face contorted in pain, was Crookshanks. His body was rigid and still, and it was obvious that someone had tortured him with the cruciatus curse before using the killing curse.

Hermione stepped back, reeling in shock and anger. Suddenly something broke inside her, something she had only just realised was there. Her last vestige of hope. Her very last feeling deep down that everything could be all right. She screamed. It was a tortured scream, a scream that if anyone heard it it would haunt them to their grave. Even after everything they had done, they had killed Crookshanks. They had not even left her that. It was the last straw, a sign that this world was utterly cruel, so cruel she could not bare it.

She sank to her knees, tears flowing as they had never flown before in her life. She caught Crookshanks cold body into her hands and manipulated his legs so that it looked almost as if he was sitting on her lap, as he always did. Stopping her from completing her homework, the way he would scratch her all the time, but she had always known that he had loved her. And she had loved him, the moment he decended on Rons head in that pet shop all those years ago. But they had killed him too. Along with all the others, they had killed him. No mercy, no hope. Just death. Life was so unfair, killing those who deserved it least.

No. Life was not unfair. Nor was it cruel. It was all HIS fault. That evil, twisted, BASTARD had done this. He had killed her friends. People that were practically her family. Her pet. He had ruined her life. And thousands of others. Just because he fancied himself 'powerful' or some crap. He was still out there, ready to take over the world. All these people were dead, Crookshanks was dead. All because of _him_.

She felt anger coarsing through her veins. How she would like to get revenge on him. It consumed her. She no longer wanted to sleep. She would not give up. If she was the only survivor, she would keep going. At least until she had done something. But what could she do? Voldemort was much to powerful for her to even try to kill. He would simply order one of his death eaters to go and 'dispose of the mudblood'. If she could even find him. She got up, settling Crookshanks dead body on the end of her bed where he used to sleep. Whatever she did, there was no way of bringing back her friends and family. Her parents were in Australia, and although she knew where to find them she didn't want to cause them more pain by reappearing. They were happier without her. Safer without her.

Or was there? Was there a way of bringing them all back? Of making it so that none of this ever happened? Excitment rushed through Hermione, causing her to jump up from where she had been sitting on the bed and pace round the room agitatedly. Could it work? Was there a tiny chance it could work?

Hermione was not stupid in any sense of the word. She knew that one wrong move and the world could be ruined. But wasn't it already ruined? Surely only the wizarding world would be effected, and that was so much in ruins already that it hardly mattered.

'Think!' she thought to herself. 'One wrong move and you could cease to exist.'

'But do I care?' She thought sadly. It would be a relief to simply not exist, to have never been. And what did it matter if Harry and Ron and her friends also disappeared? They were already dead, killed by the few deatheaters that had remained. They had done their very best to wreak as much havoc as they could before they left, killing as many as they could. Soon they would be back. They had not realised that she had survived, as Harry had given her his invisibility cloak before he died so that she could hide away. He had cared so much.

She made up her mind. She would do it. She had to.

The idea had taken hold somewhere in her brain. It had given her a feeling that perhaps, somehow, there was a way out of this miserable, empty situation. That maybe there was a way to get her friends back. She knew that it would probably fail, but she also knew that if she didn't try she would be tortured her whole life with the feeling that perhaps, if she had only tried...

She ran along the corridors, and up the stairs, the direction she knew so well. She reached Dumbledores office within 5 minutes. She stopped, panting, in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the place that Dumbledore had occupied for so long, that Harry had spent so many long hours in... No. Don't think about that. Think of the plan.

The gargoyle that she knew was hiding Dumbledores office was staring at her, a little sadly she thought.

She opened her mouth to attempt to guess the password, but before she could speak the gargoyle moved aside to let her pass...

She looked at it in surprise, but the gargoyle merely continued staring at her sadly. She walked through the entrance to the stairs, still looking at the gargoyle. 'Thank you.' she murmured under her breath.

She started running. She ran up the spiral staircase as fast as she could, and shoved the door open unceremoniously.

'Professor Dumbledore!' she shouted.

'I've been expecting you.' said a voice coming from the leftmost wall.

Authors note:

Yay! First chapter! Super excited about this one. PLEASE, if you are reading this, please please PLEASE REVIEW, it is the only that keeps me going in my stories. Even if you didn't like it, tell me why. :) I implore you just write something XD


	2. Chapter 2

VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: PLEASE RE-READ THE FIRST CHAPTER. I HAD TO MAKE A BIG PLOT CHANGE, AND VOLDEMORT IS NO LONGER DEAD. HE IS OUT THERE.

Also a few plot notes that differ from the book for any confused:

This is set at the end of Deathly Hallows.

Everyone is dead, including Harry. Only Hermione is alive.

Time works differently in my world, in the books everything that will happen has happened,

and you cannot change the past. Here you can change the past, but you do not know how it will

effect the future which is why it is a very dangerous thing to do.

Hermione ran up to the portrait where the voice had come from. Dumbledore was sitting in his tall chair as he always did, watching Hermione with sadness in his eyes.

'I think I know what has happened. They are all dead, aren't they?' he said, his eyes cold and dead, completely unlike the twinkling ones that they used to be.

Hermione hung her head. 'Yes.'

'Are there any survivors?'

'Not that I know of, except for me.'

'Even... even Harry? And Voldemort?'

Hermione felt a tear prickle her eye, but held it back. This was no time for crying.

'Voldemort survived. But Harry... Harry's dead.'

Hermione could have sworn she saw Dumbledore's face swim with emotion, but then it was gone, and his face was calm again.

'It's in the 2nd drawer down of the cabinet over there.' He pointed to a battered looking wooden chest of drawers with a lamp and various magical objects balanced on top.

'Thank you.' Hermione said, running over to the cabinet and pulling open the second drawer. It was filled with many tiny boxes, all arranged in neat rows. 'Which one is it?'

'The black one, with the blue edging.'

She pulled out the box in question, which was covered in a rather thick layer of dust. She brushed it off, and tried to open it. Of course, as she had expected, it was locked.

Dumbledore sighed. 'The key is on the desk. Not a very sophisticated hiding place I know, but if you had not been told there would be no way of finding out which box or drawer it unlocks.'

Hermione walked over to the desk, and immediately saw a tiny golden key on the corner. She picked it up, expectantly.

She placed it into the tiny lock on the box, and turned. It opened immediately.

Inside the tiny box, perched on a soft wad of purple material, was a small golden hourglass, with golden hoops stretching round it like the rings of Saturn. It was attached to a long golden chain, so that the owner could wear it like a necklace. It was a time turner, like the one she had had back in her 3rd year. Except it was twice as big.

Dumbledore watched her carefully. 'This is the only one of it's kind. As you know the stock of time turners at the ministry was destroyed 2 years ago, but they never had one like this. The normal time turners go back an hour each turn, so to go back as far as you intend to go it would take you an impossibly long time. This goes back a year. It is extremely powerful, and there has only ever been one. You will need to turn it 53 times to get to where you need to be.'

The Hermione from a year ago would have marvelled at the incredible piece of magic, but now she just nodded. By now the initial excitement had gone, and now she just felt nervous down to her core.

'I... I don't know if I can do this. What if I wipe out the entire world or something?'

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. 'Trust me. What you are going to do is the right thing. I may be wrong, but I believe that all this that has happened was a mistake. It was never meant to happen. That by you going back and fixing it, you will be putting fate on the right course once again.'

'But... won't he be more powerful than me? How am I going to kill him?'

For the first time Dumbledores eyes twinkled slightly. 'Oh, I think you'll find that you won't have any difficulty doing what you need to do. You'll figure it out.'

Hermione looked doubtful, but did not question Dumbledore further.

'Go now. You are very brave, Hermione, for doing this. Not many would risk it. I know that you are devastated at the loss of your friends, but you must fix this. Do your very best.'

Hermione picked up the time turner, feeling like she could throw up at any moment. And throwing up while travelling in time would not be a good idea.

'Wait!' said Dumbledore, raising his hand to stop Hermione. 'Not here! Do you want to materialise in front of an old headmaster, right in front of his desk?'

Hermione's mouth dropped open. 'I... didn't think of that.'

'Clearly. Although understandable, in the circumstances. I would recommend you leave the Hogwarts, and then apperate to a small field around Hogsmead. No one will see you there, all being well.'

'Okay. Th... thank you Professor. I'll do that.' Hermione said, her voice breaking with suppressed emotion.

Dumbledore's portrait smiled. 'Good luck.'

About half an hour later, Hermione arrived at a small field near Hogsmead. It had been awful walking through the castle again. She had managed to avoid her friends bodies, and had spent the entire time running as fast as she could to avoid looking at anything.

She sincerely hoped nothing else had been here 53 years ago. As she stood there holding the time turner, she truly realised for the first time what she was about to do. She was going to go back to the 1940's and KILL Lord Voldemort. How insane was that? This was a stupid idea. She would be killed herself for sure. Even though he would be 17 like her, he was still far more powerful than her. He knew dark magic that she certainly did not. He had killed a girl by then too. How was she going to pull this off? Why did Dumbledore not realised that there was no chance this would work? He had said 'You'll figure it out'. What the hell did that mean?

But she knew that she had to try. If only to join Harry and Ron while attempting to save the world, just like they did. A hero's death.

Hermione took a deep breath, placed the necklace around her throat, and began to turn...

The world started to spin. Shapes moved around her vaguely, occasionally a few cows or sheep, or a wild rabbit. Once she thought a person came walking beside her.

She span for a full 5 minutes. All the time she was thinking the same thing.

'This is stupid. This is stupid. This is stupid.' and feeling like she was about to be sick.

The passages of time absorbed her even more. She was spinning, spinning into the past, like

a spinning top gone out of control. There was no going back now. She would either return and her

friends would be alive and well, or she would never have existed, and they would still be dead.

Gradually she stopped spinning. She was still in the same field, and mercifully no one was there with her.

Everything looked very similar, except the grass was longer. It was amazing how little nature changes when there is no one to mess with it.

Then it hit her. She was in 1944. The war had not happened. She could walk up to anybody and scream 'LORD VOLDEMORT' and they would not even blink an eyelid. Everyone who had died during the war was now alive or hasn't yet been born. And somewhere out there is a 17 year old Tom Riddle, putting into action his evil plans to take over the wizarding world...

Short chapter, but another tomorrow. That one will be about 3-4000 words so look forward to it! ;) Please tell me what you think of this chapter, I have a very low confidence in my writing. :(


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione began to walk down to Hogsmead, revelling in what she had done. It had seemed so easy to turn that hourglass, but the effects of that simple action could destroy the world. She had no idea what was going to happen. All that she knew was that the only thing that was keeping her from simply lying down on the floor and staying there for a very, very long time was the possibility that she could see her friends again. A possibility that this ridiculous plan could succeed.

She quickened her pace, deciding then and there that there was no point feeling sad for the moment. Ron and Harry had not been born. The war had not happened. And it might never happen again. And there was work to be done.

Soon after that she reached Hogsmeade, and braced herself to enter the beautiful village. The last time she had seen it she had been with Ron and Harry on one of their school trips, and she knew it would bring back memories. Happy memories, tainted with sadness... But then she remembered her new mindset, and she walked purposefully into the village, and as difficult as it was, pushed Harry and Ron out of her mind.

Hogsmeade was very different to how she had known it. Although she could recognise some of the shops, like Flourish and Blotts and Olivanders, but there were other places that she did not recognise, like Tilber's Bakery and Gretta's Tools for Gardening.

"'Gretta's Tools for Gardening'? What kind of shop name is that?" she thought to herself, slightly amused.

The village looked less well kept, and the roads decidedly less smooth. She was encouraged however to see that both the Three Broomsticks and the Hogs head were still open, and she made a beeline straight for the Three Broomsticks, which was also one of her favourite places in Hogsmeade. Along with Flourish and Blotts, the book store, of course.

As she walked into the Three Broomsticks, which was delightfully warm, she lifted her head and breathed in the all too familiar scent of the place. A mixture of butterbeer and cheerful people was the only way she could describe it. It felt like home.

She looked around the pub interestedly, drinking in the familiar bar tables and chairs which had not changed in 53 years. Some things were different however, for one thing instead of the attractive Madam Rosmerta, there was a rather sour looking middle aged lady serving the customers, who seemed to think that every person ordering a drink was doing her a great inconvenience.

Hermione was relieved to note that everyone seemed to be wearing almost the same wizarding atire as they did in the 90's, except garish colours seemed to have been a fashion at the time. There were numerous people who seemed to be wearing horrible yellow robes, or in some cases neon green. Hermione did not think she would be taking part in that particular fashion.

She walked up to the counter, deciding that as she had not yet decided what she was going to do she might as well grab something to drink. In truth she was still partly in shock, and this seemed like a good way of bringing some normality back into her situation.

'I'll have a butter beer please.' she said, attempting to sound jovial to the sour looking bartender.

'I daresay you'll get one then, _not_ that I have any choice in the matter.' the lady said irritably, reaching down for a bottle.

She slammed it down on the counter a little too violently and the bottle promptly smashed, showering Hermione in bits of broken glass and cold butterbeer.

Hermione gasped and stepped back from the counter, brushing bits of glass from her robes, staring at the bartender who was looking just as angry as before.

'What is her problem!' thought Hermione, rather annoyed now.

A skinny man with lank brown hair poked his head round the door of the kitchen. He reminded her of somebody, but was not sure who.

'Do try not to break too many bottles of butterbeer Margaret.' he said cheerfully, smiling at Hermione apologetically.

'Well maybe if the bottles weren't so bloody flimsy they wouldn't break so easily!' she yelled at him, pulling out another bottle and shoving it uncerimioniously towards Hermione.

Hermione, eager to get away from this bad tempered woman, took it, paid (luckily she had had the sense to grab money before she left 1998) and walked as fast as she could over to a table.

Before she could sit down, however, she noticed an extremely tall and large boy sitting along on the other side of the pub, sipping his tankard of drink rather morosely she thought. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him...

With a thrill of excitment she realised who it was. It was a younger Hagrid! Beaming from ear to ear it took all of her self control not to launch herself at Hagrid and hug him as hard as she could, but that might seem rather odd considering he didn't know her yet.

'He must be about 15 now - he's been expelled from Hogwarts for two years. Wow. And all thanks to _Tom Riddle_ ' she thought, as she walked over to where the younger Hagrid was sitting.

It was very odd seeing Hagrid this young. Younger than her even. He was less tall and wide, but still abnormally large for his age. He did not look violent or menacing like Crab or Goyle did, even though he was about twice their size. His face was obviously a lot younger and round, and he had not yet grown the huge bushy beard that Hermione knew him so well for.

She thought back to the battle, how Hagrid had fled into the forest after Grawp. She had no idea what had happened to him. Whether he was dead or alive.

She sat down next to Hagrid, placing her bottle of butterbeer on the table next to him.

Hagrid looked up, and looked highly surprised to see her sitting there. It didn't seem many people believed that he hadn't opened the Chamber of Secrets, and didn't dare sit next to him.

'Hi, I'm Hermione. I... I just want to say... I believe that you didn't do it.'

Hagrid stared at her. 'Ye... ye believe me an' Dumbledore?' he said, looking incredulous.

'Yes! I think someone else killed that girl. You shouldn't have been expelled.'

Hagrid sat up a little straighter, looking at her as if she was an angel from heaven.

'But... no one believes us. Everyone thinks I shoulda been thrown in Askaban!'

Hermione looked indignant. 'Well I don't! I don't know who did it, but I know it wasn't you, Hagrid.'

She clapped her hand over her mouth. She wasn't meant to know that. Mistakes like that were what could ruin this plan.

To her surprise however Hagrid did not look alarmed, but frowned sadly. 'I suppose ye read that in the Profit didn't ye. Everyone knows my name now.'

Hermione sighed with relief. 'Oh, yes, that's right. I read it there. I hope you don't mind.'

'Na, it's fine.'

'Anyway... I... uh... better be going now. I just wanted to tell you that.' said Hermione, eager to leave before she could reveal anything else that she wasn't supposed to know.

Hagrid looked a little sad at that. 'Oh, ok then. Bye, um, Hermione.'

Hermione smiled and got up, not sure were she was going to go next. She wasn't sure WHAT she was meant to do. It had seemed so simple to come to 1944 and kill Lord Voldemort when she had just watched her friends die, and was in the heat of the moment, eager for revenge, but now... now it just seemed like a silly little girls dream, and she had no idea how to go about it.

Hermione booked a room for the night, giving the name Hermione Gregson (the first thing that came into her head) and was taken to it by the irritable bartender once again, who complained the whole way about being 'severely overworked' and 'not appreciated'. Hermione was greatly relieved when they arrived and she could say good night to the highly disagreeable woman.

She looked around it. It was not bad, but certainly not amazing. She had gone for the cheapest room that was clean, and they had clearly gone for bare necessities*.

There was a bed of course, a grey single which looked rather depressing. Not what she needed. There was a small bedside table with a dusty lamp on it which was giving off a a faint glow. There was a door on the other side of the room which Hermione assumed was to the bathroom. There was also a wardrobe.

With a feeling of dread Hermione realised that she had not brought a single item of clothing, or anything else of her belongings. She had grabbed money of course, but had completely forgotten to bring anything else in the heat of the moment.

She was in 1944 with no clothes, no friends, and limited money.

How she was going to sort out this mess she had no idea.

Yay! Next chapter! If you are reading this now I am going to publish another one as soon as possible today, it's just that that seemed like a good place to end. I think I'm going to keep them at around 1,500-2,000 words each is that ok?

*anyone who can read that and not burst into song is a liar


	4. Chapter 4

'So, you'd like to enrol in you're last year at Hogwarts, Miss, er, Gregson?' said the headmaster at the time, Professor Dippet, looking at her slightly suspiciously. Although this could be her new-found paranoia that seem to have appeared over the last 5 months.

'Yes. As I have explained I have been educated at home for the past 6 years, and now that my parents have died I would like to complete my magical education at Hogwarts.' she said firmly.

Proffesser Dippet looked confused. 'We have no record of anyone under your name in our magical records. Are you sure that your name is Hermione Gregson?'

'I think I know my own name thank-you very much.' said Hermione, drawing herself up to her fullest height. 'And I have told you, my parents never registered my birth. They lived in very poor situations and were worried that I would taken away. It may have been unfounded but that was there belief.'

'But you refuse to tell me their names!'

'For reasons that I would prefer to keep to myself. But does my heritage make any difference to whether I can go to Hogwarts?' she said, trying to keep her voice authoritative.

'The fact is that you should not exist!'

'Well, the failings of the Ministry is not my fault or problem. I simply wish to come to school for a year, after which I will not concern you with my questionable existence any longer. I think you have an arrangement for students wishing to join late?'

'Well, yes, we do. But... but...' stuttered the headmaster, looking rather flustered.

'Is there a problem?' said Hermione, crossing her arms.

'Uh... well... I... suppose not.' he said resignedly.

'Good.'

'But you will have to take exams to ensure that you are up to Hogwarts Year 7 standard! And the ministry will be looking into your heritage, whether you like it or not.'

Hermione smirked slightly. 'I don't think there will be a problem with my level... but I am fine with taking exams if you so wish it.'

'Well then, that will be it Miss Gregson, you will get an owl shortly with you're supply list.'

For the first time Hermione looked a little embarrassed. She had managed to get a job at the Three Broomsticks as a waitress but did not earn nearly enough money to buy all her kit.

'Is there... some kind of financial support for students with low income?' she said, getting the words out as quick as she could.

'Well, yes, there is a student fund. What is your current situation?'

'I work as a waitress at the Three Broomsticks, but I obviously won't be able to continue that while at Hogwarts, and I only just have enough money to rent a room...'

'I suppose we could sort something out. I will include it in the letter.'

'Okay, thank you Professor. I shall see you in a few weeks.'

And she left the pub, feeling satisfied.

Not a lot had happened in the last few months. She had got a job as a waitress which had paid for a new set of non school robes, underwear, and other necessities.

She had worked nearly all day 6 days a week to afford her pricey room at The Three Broomsticks, and it had been a rather dull life simply serving drinks all day. She was started to see why Margaret was so irritable all the time.

The good thing was that she was in a much better place mentally, and had got back her previous spark for knowledge (she had been spending a lot of her spare time sitting in Flourish and Blotts). She had also got a little of her old fire back, and felt more like herself than she had done since the last time she had been at Hogwarts.

She had arranged to meet the headmaster of the time, Professor Dippet, in the Hogs Head as it was a lot less crowded and quieter. She had been careful not to speak too loudly however, as she was sure that someone from the Profit could make a story about 'Hogwarts Headmaster accepts unknown and unregistered student!' in a heartbeat.

The thought that she was going to return to Hogwarts made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Although she knew she was going for an important reason, it was still comforting to know that she would be back.

She was in fact nearly 18 now, as she was born on the 19th of September, but had told the headmaster that she was only just 17 so as to have up to a year to accomplish her goal.

Whenever she thought about this she felt a thrill of fear run through her, as she still had no idea how powerful Riddle would be at age 17, and whether she would be able to defeat him, even now that he was a year younger than her.

The thought he had already killed his family, and Myrtle, scared her more than she could possibly say. He had already split his soul and placed it in that horrible diary. It made her want to vomit.

She had seen a few familiar faces while she had been serving at the pub, for example she had learnt that the skinny man with the brown hair that had reminded her of someone she knew, was actually an 18 year old Frank Longbottom, who had got a quick job as a chef before moving on to become a highly successful Auror at the ministry. It saddened her to even look at him, knowing what fate him and his wife were going to come to.

She had seen Hagrid a few more times, and to her delight had become quite friendly with him. It was nice to have someone she knew from the future in the past here with her, albeit a much less mature version. It seemed that the child Hagrid was even more obsessed with monsters and dangerous creatures than the adult version, which was saying something. He had spent many an hour talking animatedly about the last horrifying creature he had managed to breed or buy, insisting that they were all 'quite harmless'. Somehow in her experience Hermione highly doubted it.

Hermione reached the Three Broomsticks at last, and walked in to start her evening shift.

* * *

It was the day before the Hogwarts express departed, and Hermione could not wait. She was very keen to leave behind the Three Broomsticks, and not sure she would ever like to return. It was one thing to go in for a drink every few months, and another to spend all your days and nights in the hot, stuffy air. She was also highly intellectually bored, and was hoping that she would be pleasantly challenged once again. Although since she was nearly 18, she was not sure what else it was that she had not yet learnt. Searching for Horcruxes and battling Voldemort's death eaters had taught her more than any class could do.

Never the less, she felt a thrill of excitement as she packed her trunk that night, and thought happily that the next time she went to sleep she would be in the girls dormitory at Hogwarts.

She had completed her test exams, and was suitably pleased with the face of the examiner when she completed it in record time. She had not been told what grade she had got, but had not been questioned again over whether she was suitable for Year 7. Who said it wasn't useful to have brains.

* * *

OK, so this will be the last update for probably a week, I wanted to get the first few out straight away. I am feeling a little discouraged at the moment, as I am worried that no one is reading my chapters. But I WILL finish this fic, even if it never gets any more reviews. :) I promised myself that.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sat on the Hogwarts Express, watching the countryside flash past her in a blur. She felt excitement burn her insides like lava, and although they had only been going for a few minutes found herself wondering when they were going to arrive.

Being back at Hogwarts would be incredible. She had not had that feeling of normality for a whole year, and she could not wait to be back at her classes again. She did not care for the moment about why she had come back in time in the first place, she was just going to enjoy herself for a while. She needed to.

And if that included a bit of studying then all for the better.

Hopefully a plan would form as she went along, as it always had before.

'Hi, do you mind if I sit here?' said a soft voice from behind her.

She turned around. A small girl with long brown hair that was pulled up into a bun was standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. She had small features, with a nose that seemed to point up at the end.

Hermione smiled politely. 'Go ahead.' she said, gesturing to a seat.

The girl looked relieved and sat down opposite Hermione.

'I wouldn't ask, only...' she looked around, looking a little scared. 'I don't like sitting on my own.' she whispered, shivering slightly.

She seemed to be caught up in her own thoughts after that, looking around the carriage as if she expected a dementor to come flying through the window.

Hermione broke the silence by holding out her hand. 'I'm Hermione. Hermione Gra... Gregson.' she said.

The girl shook her hand distractedly. 'I'm Olive Hornby.' she said, not looking at Hermione, but instead looking at the door.

Hermione gasped and withdrew her hand.

The girl, who Hermione now knew to be Olive, turned around in surprise. 'Is there anything wrong?' she asked, looking slightly defiant.

'No, no. Not at all.' Hermione said quickly, trying to sound normal.

'Oh.' said Olive, and looked around again, fidgeting in her seat.

Hermione deliberated, and went for it.

'What are you so distracted by?' said Hermione, trying to sound conversational.

Olive looked at her, looking as though she was trying to decide whether to trust Hermione or not.

'Well...' she said, sounding hesitant. 'Odd things have been happening.' she said in a rush.

'What kind of things?'

Olive shivered. 'I feel as though I'm being watched... all the time... it's creepy. That's why I don't like sitting alone. I'm scared. I'm scared it'll hurt me.'

she said, sounding close to tears and glancing around once more.

'It's ok. I'm sure whatever it is doesn't want to hurt you.' she said consolingly.

Olive's head whipped around at lightning speed to face Hermione.

'You believe me?' she said looking incredulous.

Hermione was taken aback. 'Yes... of course!' she said, looking confused.

Olive relaxed visibly. 'Everyone thinks I'm mad.' she said, sounding relieved.

'Why?' said Hermione.

'Well... you know, me being so jumpy and stuff. They don't talk to me much. I can't explain it. It's just... a feeling. And I don't know... I think...' she said, her voice cracking at the end. 'It happened after that Myrtle girl died. She was just... lying there... it was horrible.' Olive shuddered, her expression vacant.

Hermione knew what she was talking about. Olive had been the one to discover Moaning Myrtles body. The girl who had been killed by Riddle's snake.

'It must have been awful for you.' she said kindly. She had her reserves about this girl however, as Myrtle had always told her that she was a bit of a bully.

'It was. I'm so glad that Hagrid person was expelled. He could have killed more people.'

Hermione tried not to look angry, and forced herself not to say anything. She wasn't supposed to know about the real reason Myrtle died.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Hermione. Olive could be a good source of information, and she needed as much as she could get.

Before she could say anything however, Olive had spoken again.

'I haven't seen you around here before, and you look like a seventh year!' she said, looking confused.

'No, I'm new. I am a seventh year, but I've been educated at home all my life. I just wanted to complete my last year here.'

Olive looked even more confused.

'But... you haven't completed your OWL's? So how do they know you are up to Hogwarts level? I've heard home educated Witches and Wizards aren't nearly as well trained.' she said rather nastily.

'Oh, I did exams. They seem to think I'm up to the correct level.' Hermione said coldly.

Olive shrugged. 'I suppose. Well, I hope you aren't going to be a bore in classes. If you're in Gryffindor of course. Do you even know what house you'll be in yet?' she said, sounding considerably more animated and slightly disdainful. She obviously felt a lot more brave now that she had someone to talk, and perhaps talk down, to.

'No, I don't know. I suppose I'll have to do the sorting again.'

'Again? I thought you hadn't been here before?' said Olive sharply.

'I, uh, just meant that I would be doing it with the first years. Which isn't usual.' she said quickly, trying to cover up her mistake.

Olive narrowed her eyes suspiciously. 'I suppose. Well I certainly haven't seen you before so I don't know how you could have been here earlier.'

'Quite. I uh, wanted to ask you something.' said Hermione, eager to leave this particular aspect of conversation.

Olive made a funny grunting noise that Hermione took as a sign to continue.

'I just wondered if you'd heard of anyone called... Tom Riddle?' she asked, trying to sound casual.

Olive smiled, her eyes lighting up. It seemed that gossip was her speciality.

'Of course, I mean, he's so popular. Bit strange though. Creepy, some would say.'

'In what way?' said Hermione, eager to know what to expect.

'Oh, I don't know. He's perfectly charming most of the time, but sometimes I wonder if he really means it. And he has lots of friends, but doesn't seem very close with them. It's odd.' she shrugged. 'It's probably just me though. I've been very... paranoid, recently.'

'Mmmm...' said Hermione, lost in thought.

'Why do you want to know, anyway?' said Olive, looking at Hermione curiously.

'Oh, I've just heard about him. From, relatives and stuff.'

Olive raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 'If you say so.'

There was a long silence while they both looked out of the window, lost in their own thought.

They spent most of the rest of the journey in silence, with the occasional bit of conversation, mostly when Olive seemed to get twitchy again. Hermione bought lunch from the food trolley, and was pleased to see that most of the food had stayed the same, except that the packaging was considerably less garish and more understated. The familiar taste of the Hogwarts Express food was like being hugged by a long lost friend.

After a while Olive stood up. 'Well, thank you for letting me sit here. I didn't want to sit on my own and my house thinks I'm mad, so it's been a nice break.' she sighed.

Hermione smiled. 'I'll.. ugh, see you around then.'

'Maybe. Goodbye.' and she left the compartment, shutting the door behind her.

It had been nice to have some company, and fascinating to meet the girl that Myrtle had hated so much. Turns out she had been in Gryffindor too.

She had been quite nice though, thought Hermione, although she could definitely tell that she had a passion for all things gossip.

It would be quite useful to have a friend who knew all the rumours, however.

* * *

As Hermione walked into the all too familiar Great Hall she was not altogether sure where to go. She did not have a house yet, and she was not a first year. She stood awkwardly at the wall and stared around her, feeling slightly embarrassed. A lot of people were staring at her, wondering where on earth she had come from, and why she wasn't sitting at her house table. She was starting to realise how Harry had felt being stared at all the time.

The Great Hall looked very similar, with the four house tables just like she remembered it, with the staff table up at the top. Most of the teachers were different however, and Professor Dippit was sitting in the Headmasters seat, where she was so used to seeing Dumbledore. Dumbledore however was sitting in the place where Professor McGonagle normally sat, with a decidedly shorter beard and a much younger, livelier face. He still had the twinkle in his eyes that Hermione remembered, and she felt a twinge of sadness. It was awful seeing all these people alive and well when she knew what was going to happen to them in the future.

At that moment Professor Dippit stood up to make an announcement of some kind. She was interested to see that he did not excersise the same control over the students chattering, and it took a minute or two before everyone was paying attention. She was reminded unpleasantly of Doleres Umbridge. She pushed the thought out of her mind.

At last the Hall was silent, and the Headmaster began to speak in a rather dull voice, as if he had learnt all the words by heart. 'Hello everybody, and welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I and the rest of our teachers hope that you have a very productive year. Before we begin the Sorting, we have a little bit of a special circumstance. We have a late student joining us in her seventh year, as she has only now decided that she would like to attend Howarts. She will be sorted fas well, even though she is not a first year. Now, let the sorting begin.' and he sat down, looking slightly vacant. He did not have the kind of magic that Professor Dumbledore always had when he spoke, thought Hermione ruefully.

The hat was placed on the stool by Slughorn, the potions master of both the 1940s and Hermione's time. She watched it expectantly, waiting for it to begin singing. After a minute, it began, opening it's clothy mouth and singing in a raspy voice.

 _You may be thinking 'what am I?'_

 _Or you may already know_

 _If you don't, then listen here_

 _Pray, don't be slow_

 _For I am the Sorting Hat_

 _And I must split you into quarters_

 _Based on this you make your friends_

 _So listen closely, sons and daughters_

 _You may be in brave Gryffindor,_

 _With heart of gold and pride of steel_

 _Or perhaps in clever Ravenclaw,_

 _where intelligence seals the deal_

 _Slytherin might be the one,_

 _for the cunning and the guarding_

 _Or Hufflepuff could be your house,_

 _if you are loyal and hard-working_

 _So go ahead, try me on_

 _I promise I will not bite_

 _For what I say will decide_

 _Where you sleep tonight_

The sorting hat stopped singing, and the students applauded politely, awaiting the first person to be sorted.

Professor Slughorn got up again, and Hermione assumed that this was so that he could place the hat on the students heads as they were

called.

Slughorn lifted a piece of paper up and read the first name on the list.

'Gregson. Hermione'

* * *

Yay! Chapter 5! I'm kind of writing this for myself now, but oh well. :P

Quite proud of the song though. 3


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione quivered slightly as she started to walk over the stool where the Sorting Hat was placed, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through her.

Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she stopped in her tracks, waves of dread pouring over her like ice water. The Hat could read her mind. So wouldn't it know that she was time travelling? Wouldn't it know the future once it had read the innermost depths of her mind? That Tom Riddle was going to grow up to be Lord Voldemort, and the Battle of Hogwarts, and everything? She silently cursed herself for not thinking of it before. This could well be what destroys the world!

'Miss Gregson? Please come over here so that you can be Sorted. We cannot waste time.' said Slughorn, gesturing towards the stool.

'Um... well...' stuttered Hermione, at a loss as to what to say or do.

There was nothing she _could_ do. The whole school was was watching, including the teachers. She could not simply walk out. And then that would totally ruin the plan! Panic spread through her like a virus, and she looked around wildly as if hoping a solution would appear if she looked hard enough.

Resigned to her fate, she stepped forward. Slughorn was looking impatient, obviously eager to get to the feast as quickly as possible.

'Yes. Sorry Professor.' she said, jolting herself out of her panicked state. She would just have to hope that the Sorting Hat would keep what it had seen to itself. If it didn't, well, there was nothing that she could do about it. Not now.

Slughorn picked up the Sorting Hat and held in the air, ready to place it on her head. Everyone in the room was watching her with their fullest attention and curiosity, and there was a certain amount of whispering going on. She sat down on the stool, her knees quivering with fear and nerves.

Slughorn placed the Hat onto her long, and as of recently decidedly less bushy, hair. She remembered how it used to slip over her eyes, but now it fit comfortably.

'Ah... what _do_ we have hear?' said a drawling voice in her head. 'Well this is interesting. Veeeery interesting.'

'You mustn't tell anybody!' she thought urgently in her head. 'It could destroy the planet and all it's occupants for all I know. You have no idea how much damage it could cause if _anyone_ knew.'

'Well I cannot be sure of what you mean. All that I know is that there is certainly something very odd about your head. There are many gaps...'

'So you can't see my memories?' thought Hermione, hope rising inside her like a beacon.

'I can only see the memories that are relevant to the choosing of your house, Miss Gregson. Although this all very mysterious.'

Hermione could have fainted with relief as she heard these words. All was well.

'And now, to the matter currently in hand... what house to put you in? Hmm... oh, yes, definitely... You could be in Ravenclaw, but overall...'

'GRYFFINDOR!' shouted the Sorting Hat aloud, and a second later it was yanked off her head by Slughorn again. She could hear cheers from the Gryffindor table, and she got up, feeling light as air. She positively skipped towards the house table, and smiled as a girl of around her age moved aside to make room for her to sit down. It had all been for nothing. The Sorting Hat did not know. All was well, so far.

Once she had sat down however she was positively pounced on by questions.

'Who are you?' asked a girl sitting next to her.

'How come you haven't been here before?' said a boy opposite her.

'What's your name?'

'Have you done exams yet?'

'Do you know anything? What year will you be in?'

Hermione stared around, not knowing which question to answer first, more arriving every second.

'Hey! Let her breath for gods sake!' said a tall boy a little further down the table, a prefects badge shining on his chest.

The table fell silent, looking reproachfully at the boy. He had messy brown hair and grey eyes, and he had a slightly mischievous look about him that reminded her a bit of Fred and George.

'Hi, I'm Daniel Owen.' he said, stretching a hand along the table to shake hers.

Hermione took it, smiling. 'I'm Hermione Gregson. It's nice to meet you.'

'Likewise.'

She turned away, but saw out of the corner of her eyes that he continued looking at her still.

' _So,_ how come you are here then?' said a girl sitting next to her, who was looking at her enthusiastically.

'Um, well, I was home educated for 6 years, and then they died last year. So I've decided to finish my education here.' replied Hermione.

'Oh. I'm sorry.' said the girl, frowning at her sympathetically.

'It's ok.'

Another girl lent over to ask her something. 'So, how much do you know? Won't you find it hard to keep up?'

'Oh, I think I'll keep up.' said Hermione coldly. This seemed to be a common theme in conversation when it came to being home educated.

'We've never had a student come this late before, you see.' said a boy of about 14 who said his name was Seth.

After half an hour of nearly constant questions and trying to eat as much food as possible in the rare gaps (resulting in some answers that were probably highly inaudible due to her bulging mouth) she was dying for the feast to end.

Finally, after what seemed hours, Professer Dippit stood up to make his start of term speech.

'I hope you have all had a satisfying meal, and I would like to make a few announcements. Firstly, as you know, we had an extremely difficult term last year. Sadly, a student was killed. You will be pleased to know that the person who caused this regrettable incident has been expelled.'

There was a break out of cheering across the hall. Hermione scowled and looked down at her plate.

'Secondly, the Forbidden Forest is still out of bounds. Especially now that something so dangerous lives in it. Now, if you could all make your way up to your dormitory's.'

Everyone stood up and began walking towards the doors of the Great Hall. Hermione got up, relieved that the feast had ended, and began to walk with the crowd.

Suddenly the prefect that she had met earlier appeared next to her.

'Hi. Do you want me to show you where the Gryffindor common room is?'

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him that she already knew, then closed it again.

'Yes, ok. Thank you.'

Daniel smiled and began walking, beckoning for her to follow him, which she did.

'I'm sorry that everyone was interrogating you earlier. It's just that this has never happened before.' he said, turning towards her so that he was walking backwards.

'It's ok. But you might want to look where you are...'

There was a yelp as Daniel backed into a small second year, who promptly fell over.

Daniel turned, looking surprised, and helped the boy up. 'Sorry.'

Hermione laughed and sped up so that she could walk next to him.

'So... what classes are you taking?' he asked her.

'Um... most of them, actually. Except for Muggle Studies, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures.' She had decided to take the same subjects that she had been taking in her time, as it was just so much simpler that way.

'Oh, really? That's almost the same as me, except I'm taking Muggle Studies.' said Daniel, smiling.

A few minutes later they reached the Gryffindor common room, and Hermione ran up to the girls dormitory's to deposit her luggage.

As soon as she walked into the dormitory however she was once again pounced on with questions.

After a few minutes of answering the questions of many excited girls, she had had enough.

'RIGHT.' she said, raising her voice. 'I have to leave now. I would like to go to... the library.'

Most of the girls looked confused. 'But... term hasn't even started yet. Why would you need to go there? And it's only half an hour before it's after hours?' said one girl with long, blond hair.

'Do you even know where it is?' said another.

'Yes, I do. Well... I'll be back in half an hour. Good. Bye.' Hermione said firmly, and walked out of the dormitory.

For once she had no intention of reading anything in the library, but simply to sit in quiet for a little bit. She felt so tired it was unreal.

She reached the library quickly, and sank into a fluffy armchair. It was the best feeling in the world. Just a few minutes, to gather her thoughts.

'Just... a few... minutes.' Hermione thought, as the world began to blur.

Hermione closed her eyes, falling instantly into a deep sleep.


End file.
